And if so inclined, to experiment with some homespun verse themselves. I'll post the link as soon as the beautiful lounge opens.
My feeble attempt:
Sky Views
It's the apparent magnitude
that catches your eye first.
As if there is an astrochemistry
taking place. You are dust.
He a gas.
You become an accretion
at the sound of his voice.
At times unable to utter
a single sound in reply.
The apparent magnitude of this
blinding gift from the chaos
keeps you coming back for more.
He a corona. You the eclipse.
Binary systems lost in the universe.
(-;l*&;-)